Light in Darkness -UsUk-
by pinkpoland
Summary: Diary of Arthur Kirkland- a detective in New York City. A brilliant detective, one of the best out there, sets foot in the U.S. to discover intriguing crimes that need to be solved. He partners up with his apartment roommate, Alfred F. Jones- an enthusiastic health major in college. They roam the streets of NYC and solve cases at every street corner.
1. 17 August, 2015

Entry #1

New York City is said to be the city of oppurtunity. However, in my book I deem it 'the city of nuisances and oddities I wish I've never witnessed'.

The U.S. is exceedingly different from the United Kingdom; I figured that out in the first five minutes I was here. Americans talk so loud when they converse and have no knowledge of personal space. I had two buffoons bump into me on the way to the luggage pick-up and they didn't even acknowledge it. Do people really invade others' personal space like it is no big deal?

No, being here in the "great" United States of America was not my idea. There are little to no interesting cases in England and my patience has been wearing thin. My pathetic brother, Allistar, proposed the idea of the U.S. since that place is always stirring trouble within its own borders. Of course, once he stated that glorious idea my other stupid brothers agreed wholeheartedly and brought it up to mum.

"Oh, Arthur dear, that would be lovely! You can go far with your detective career there! Think of what a wonderful experience that would be!" - The exact words she said.

Henceforth, why I am here. Why I am sitting on dew covered bench writing this. Why I am waiting for a generous taxi to come to my needs. Why I quietly curse under my breath at how bloody cold it is in the early hours of the day. Why I scowl at the intrusive Americans who walk past and shoot me strange, judgmental looks.

I'll have to find an apartment to rent while I stay here. Unfortunately, I do not have that much money to afford my own for too long. I guess I'll have to find a roommate... Oh, jolly. Won't this be fun?

A taxi just pulled up. I will leave this entry here. Maybe, in the highly unlikely possibilities, I will find a roommate that doesn't irritate me beyond my wits like the rest of this place.

-A. Kirkland


	2. 18 August, 2015

Alfred F. Jones.

The name of my new and obnoxious roommate.

Apparently in times like this, finding a roommate who is willing to allow a foreign British gentleman as a worthy candidate is scarce. I was turned down by loads of people who were, like me, trying to find a roommate. Was it my hair? My inability to cook properly? My occupation? Even a Canadian rejected me!

Who cares about them anyways. I laugh in their face for their ignorant minds. They'll rue not accepting me as a roommate. I'm a highly intelligent detective who has the capability to protect them if something ever goes wrong. And solve their murder if they die. Two wonderful traits anyone would want in the person sleeping in the room beside them.

Well, I suppose none of that matters now. Those little buggers are gone and here I am with Mr. Jones.

After I left the Canadian's residence, he bumped into me in the hallway (just like how every bloody American seems to do with me). Golden blond hair cut short up his neck. A small cowlick on the right front side of his face that resembled very much like a moon crescent. Brilliant blue eyes that, if looked closely, appeared like the vast ocean. A lean body build and young face that gave up he was in his early 20s. It turns out he was a college student majoring in health. His old roommate left when he moved back home to Japan so he, like me, was in need of finding someone; except for his reasons it was for sharing the bills.

He asked if I needed a place. I, reluctantly, agreed and that was that. No interview, no background check. He accepted me in a second. It was odd, I have to admit. However, I was desperate for a room and I was not about to sleep outside in the chilly, noisy New York City.

It didn't take me long to get to know him better for he nearly shoved his life story in my ears the moment I stepped foot into the apartment. Even now as I write this, he's yammering about how 'awesome' it is to have a roommate from out of the country. Informing him that I was also a detective only fueled his non stop chatter.

God, he's so bloody annoying... Getting work done here is going to be a nightmare. I need full-on concentration when deducing a case and that can not be fulfilled with a loud mouth American in the room right beside me—

 _The words skidded messily to the side, drawing a dark line from the word 'me'_

It turns out his place is one of the cheaper ones and there is no spare room. We have to _share_ a bedroom together. Alfred, an obnoxious man with no intellectual knowledge of organization, and I, an extremely neat and reserved person who values privacy above many things, sharing a bloody room together.

Allistar, if you ever get your hands on this journal and read these, I hate you.

I have to end this here. The nuisance is trying to read what I'm writing.

-A. Kirkland


	3. 1 September, 2015

Entry #3

I got my first case.

It took a while, but I managed to get my hands on a good one. A mysterious man comes in and slaughters single women living alone and cuts them open and steals specific organs of theirs. Who knew my first case in the U.S. was going to be so gruesome?

However, I'm not complaining (for once). It is quite interesting seeing the oddities that inhabit this country. To think, this news can appear on the front page and no one bats an eye. It's as if viciously murdering women for their insides is common. How disturbing.

Alfred seemed extremely excited when he heard about my case. Well, I didn't tell him voluntarily. He snatched the case file from my hands and skimmed through it on his own. After my scolding of how that was against the law, the buffoon gave it back with that irritating smile of his.

So far, the case has been very tricky. The clues that were left behind don't have any correlation to one another and each victim didn't connect in any way- besides being single, that is. My ignorance on the human anatomy does not help either for a lot of the key details in this case are the damage done on the bodies.

Wait, I have an idea. I wish I never pondered upon the thought but I did and it's the most reasonable and effective idea I have to get further into this case... I'll continue this entry once I come back.

 _There was a line drawn between the two separate paragraphs_

With a heavy heart, I am here to confirm that I, Arthur Kirkland, am not doing this case alone... I feel as if my independent pride has been lowered significantly.

Alfred has agreed to partner with me on this case as my doctor. (Un)luckily for me, since he majors in health he knows all about the human body.

I never thought the day where I needed a partner would come. I would boast on how I could solve all my cases on my own with no help. Now here I am, beckoning an American to my aid. An American.

However, I do have to admit... Seeing Alfred get overjoyed about being given a spot in this case was nice to see. I remember when I was given my first case and how excited I was. It was touching to see him act the same way. It was cute.

Tomorrow I bring Alfred with me to the crime scenes and bodies. Let's hope I don't regret this decision.

\- A. Kirkland


	4. 6 September, 2015

Entry #4

I am somewhat reluctant to state that I thoroughly enjoyed Alfred's presence as a partner.

We closed the case fairly quickly; that impressed my boss very much. He hired Alfred as my partner and now we both work on the same cases.

When I took him to the victims' bodies in the morgue, he seemed very intrigued. Apparently at his college, they use this digital surgeon and anatomy program which prevents them from getting on any hands on subjects. Personally, I found that to be a waste of time. How would someone someone learn solely from technology? Honestly... I'm 25 yet I side with the older fellows when it comes to technology. There is too much of it.

Anyways, working with Alfred was not as bad as I originally thought it would be. Surprisingly, he could become quite serious and determined when given a set job. That was fortunate for my work. I would not be able to do my deductions with a parrot squawking non-stop in my ear 24/7.

Then again, that was just one case. Who knows how the bugger would act in other ones.

Unfortunately his proper and mature behavior only lasted on the crime scene. The moment we stepped back into the apartment his chatter broke free. If only there was some way to tape his bloody mouth shut.

I should not complain though. If it were not for Alfred I would not have gotten my first case done. If I did not get that done, I probably would lose my job or be downgraded in status. I suppose I do owe him something...

Maybe I'll cook for him tonight. A good, English meal cooked by yours truly- that sounds like a good enough reward.

 _A dark, black mark made by a right thumb was smudged across the page_

Bollocks. Why do I embarrass myself so much?! Cooking him a meal was not a grand idea. I went to make some of my delicious scones but ended up setting off the fire alarm whilst burning the scones to a crisp.

Throughout this all, Alfred was laughing his arse off and not even bothering to help me clean everything up! Then again, it was my fault... but still! The decent act to do would be to lend a helping hand.

Since I am unable to cook him a meal, he decided that it would be best if we went out to eat. I let him choose where though, mostly because I have no clue where anything is here despite living in this city for a few weeks.

That will be his reward. He gets to choose where to eat.

Even as I write that a feeling of dissatisfaction lingers upon my heart. Maybe I will find another way to repay him...

Till then, dinner it is.

\- A. Kirkland


	5. 15 September, 2015

Entry #5

I am starting to grow a strong fondness towards Alfred. Whether that be a good thing or bad thing I am incapable of knowing.

Lately, I've been feeling... different about him. Sure, he still irritates the bloody hell out of me, but there's more a feeling than despise and annoyance. Is it interest? Desire? A strong liking? Love?

Oh.

Shit.

No. No, No. This cannot be happening. Am I... Am I _gay_ for _Alfred_?

Ever since I was a young lad I knew I was gay. Girls never seemed to interest nor appear attractive to me. My brothers would often introduce to me to a variety of different girls to see if any would 'float my boat'. I swear, it was like they new every single type of girl in the world. I was pushed towards tall girls, short girls, thin girls, thick girls, colored girls, white girls, nerdy girls, athletic girls, foreign girls, native girls, older girls, mature girls, childish girls, introverts, extroverts- you name it. Yet, none of them satisfied me.

It wasn't until I met Francis Bonnefoy. God, I had fallen head over heels for that boy. I felt butterflies flutter about in my chest whenever I saw him. My cheeks heated up whenever our skin touched; whenever I felt his gaze fall on me. I felt an attraction I felt that I never felt towards any girl. That is how I found out I was a walking bloody rainbow.

That's exactly how I feel towards Alfred right now.

In all honesty, it terrifies me... Francis was the last person I ever loved. That love died the day I got the news he was killed in a fatal car crash. Ever since then, I was afraid of loving anyone else. What if they, too, met that end? I don't want to love Alfred then find him dead. My current job doesn't help with the odds anyways.

However, I can't help myself for what I feel towards Alfred... I want to kiss him. I want him to pull me into his arms and cradle me all night long. I want to wake up beside him knowing I'm his lover not just his roommate. I want to feel his bare body pressed against my own underneath the warmth of our blankets as-

Eggs, Milk, Paper plates, a sponge, more tea bags and tea cups, apple-

Damn. Alfred just walked up behind me so I had to cover up what I was writing by writing a shopping list. I told him to never do that; he knows how I hate being startled.

Maybe I am just over thinking this all. Maybe it is just a temporary crush. Besides, I don't even know if he is gay... He seems to handsome to be available for me.

I better end this here. I don't feel comfortable writing this love nonsense with him in the room now. Hopefully I will come to a conclusion with my heart and Alfred. Whether I love him or not, I don't want anything harmful to happen to him. Harm always comes in my wake when my heart chooses to love. I can't bring that upon Alfred.

\- A. Kirkland


	6. 4 October, 2015

Entry #7

It appears it has been a while since I've written in this journal. My hands have been busy with work and some personal matters.

Alfred and I have been dating ever since my last entry. That night we went out to eat was magical. I never thought it would be so fun to eat out with him. Learning more and engaging in such joyful conversations with the git was honestly the best thing I have ever experienced in my life.

He told me loads about himself and I shared loads about myself. It surprised me how open I became when I told him my story. I told him all about mum and my brothers and how my dad left us and how my older brother, Allistor, was the head man in the house and even told him how annoyed I was with being in the U.S. at first. Usually, I'm reserved and only give out specially selected information rather than freely run my mouth. Yet, when I'm with Alfred, I feel totally safe and have no worries.

Well, beside my love life, my job has been treating me well, too.

We've gotten so many cases done it began to astonish the locals. News about how quick and clever we are had begun to spread and we've been requested more and more on each upcoming case. To think, I was sitting bored and with nothing to do back in England because there were no cases where now I'm here in the U.S. trying to juggle every thrown at me.

I digress... Just writing about it is beginning to stress me out. No matters though, Alfred and I are working together and we get them done very quick despite what the contents are.

Oh, I just remembered. Alfred told me he got us tickets to go see this well-known musical on Broadway tonight. Apparently it's a show called 'Hamilton' and it's about the life story of a founding father. It doesn't sound too interesting for my taste but the tickets were incredibly hard to get and I would never bail on something like this since Alfred did so much to get them.

Hm... I'll write about how it goes later tonight. Right now, I need to focus on writing up a report for a case we just finished. This journal entry was and excuse to procrastinate, in all honesty.

 _A line was made to separate the previous paragraph with the following_

We just got back from the show and I am tired.

Tired both from the long night and tired from bawling my eyes out till I was dehydrated.

Hamilton was spectacular. At first, I didn't find it too interesting but throughout the show it took my breath away. All the lighting and dances and lyrics and music– everything was fantastic. However, the King George character ticked me off just a tad seeing how the accent was so overdone. Alfred jabbed me in the ribs and kept whispering, "Hey look, it's you!" every time that pompous bloke came on stage.

But, the show itself wasn't the only thing that made my night. What also made my night was seeing Alfred smile in awe at the actors on stage. To see his brilliant blue eyes light up at every note and word that emitted from the stage. It was a joy to see him so happy; so cheerful. To see him happy made me the happiest man on the planet.

It's almost past midnight and I am writing this before I sleep. Although, I doubt I will get much sleep since Alfred keeps rapping about guns and ships nonstop and it's keeping me awake. I swear, if he doesn't shut up I will shove one of my scones in his mouth– that usually does the trick.

\- A. Kirkland


	7. 11 October, 2015

Entry #8

Why does it happen?

Why does the world snatch the lives of precious people who still had a lot to fulfill on its soil?

Last night, I got a call from Allistor. My younger brother, Patrick, died the previous morning. He was at the pub with Allistor and got shot by a drunken bastard. There was no way to save him, according to Allistor . The bullet shot straight through the heart and killed him instantly.

I broke down crying when I got the message. I was in the middle of cleaning the kitchen when I picked up the phone. I ended up collapsing to the floor, sobbing until my voice broke. Alfred rushed in to see what happened but there was no way I could tell him what happened. The words refused to come out for if I spoke them then they would, indeed, be true. And that was a truth I did not want to come true.

Patrick was the nicest of my brothers. Sure, we all bickered and deep down loved one another at the end of the day, but Patrick... he was always there. He talked to me about fairytales. I would talk about fairies while he talked about leprechauns. Whenever we got in a fight as a family, he would side with me.

He was 20. 20 years old isn't enough for someone to live. Patrick was going to go far. He was planning to move out like me, make it big in whatever he chose to pursue in. He was going to marry and have a family. He was going to drink with me and share drunken conversations about who knows what. He was going to help mum get the dinner table ready during holidays. He was

 _The next words were smudged due to tear drops that soaked this part of the page_

My heart is heavy and I doubt it will ever lighten any time soon.

There are so many words and thoughts I never got to share with my dear brother. And now, it's too late. I'll never see nor speak with him again.

It's too late.

I digress. I have no energy to write anymore. This is giving me more grief than comfort writing this all out.

At least I have Alfred here with me. His words of love and actions are the only uplifting things in the world right now.

\- A. Kirkland


	8. 20 October, 2015

Hi, my name is Arthur Kirkland and I am a grumpy detective just like Sherlock Holmes! Bloody hell! Bollocks! I'm the best cook and home destroyer in the world!

Arthur is currently on the phone with one of the head officers, Ludwig, for our ongoing case. He doesn't know I'm writing in his little diary. What a loser.

But did I nail it? Did I sound like Arthur? Ha! It's basically how he sounds to me— always scolding, never having any fun, and seeming to always have a stick up his ass.

I'm kidding. I'm kidding. ;) Love you.

I just couldn't resist writing in this— at least once. The temptation from constantly being told to "put that bloody journal down" made me curious!

Arthur, when you read this, I didn't read any of your entries before. Y'know I wouldn't barge into your privacy, which is kind of hypercritical of me to say considering I'm only semi-invading it as I write in your diary.

Anyways, I just wanted to say you're amazing and a wonderful person. Meeting you has been the greatest thing to ever happen in my life and I'm so happy I can call you mine. I love you!

"Wow! Alfred! You're such a corny, sappy boyfriend!" Probably what you'll say when you read this. Lol!

Don't kill me when you see this.

\- Alfred Fucking Jones, your rad af partner in (solving) crime.

 _Below this entry is a badly drawn illustration of Alfred flying in the air with a cape whilst yelling, "Caw Caw Motherfuckers! The hero is on the way!"_


	9. 24 November, 2015

My sincerest apologies for not writing down my days. I wish I had remembered to document my days with Alfred and with work. My memory can grow stretched and worn out and I take great value in remembering things vividly. Hence, why I insisted I kept a diary— I mean, journal like this in the first place.

Well, to catch up, Alfred and I have been the same when it comes to work. We continue to surpass our boss's expectations with each oncoming case, fulfilling it to our greatest desires and pride. I dare say, there's talk running amuck throughout the city of our wondrous skill in crime solving.

I always knew I was grand and hard to beat. That was obvious. I'm intelligent and hard working so it's hardly a surprise. However, it is a surprise with Alfred.

The lad is always so obnoxious and spouts nonsense every hour of the day. His constant laughter and jokes and pranks and whatever the hell 'memes' are. It's aggravating to say the least. Yet, all in all, when work is at hand, he's a completely different person.

Seeing Alfred snap from his genuine aloof disposition to a serious, focused partner really is... a turn on. God, my heart feels as if it is being crushed and revived once again whenever he's like that.

Putting drunken love behind, let me write about something serious that has been brought up.

Due to our growing 'fame' and acknowledgement in the papers and such, there tends to be a lurker prodding at us. I don't know if this is some prank or serious situation, but someone does seem to be watching us.

Alfred doesn't seem to know this for I'm the only one who tends to be aware of surroundings 24/7. Just last night when Alfred and I were coming from our dinner date, I noticed a shadowy figure staring at us across the street. I couldn't get a good look at the face nor further information on whether they were looking directly at us or not. Nonetheless, that moment continues to haunt me.

Maybe I'm just imagining things... I think it's best if I just forget about it.

\- A. Kirkland

P.S. Alfred, if you touch my bloody journal again I will personally pummel you so hard you will be begging for your dear mummy to come save you.


End file.
